


The Cowboy Crime

by VeraBAdler



Series: October 2018 challenges [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Has a Cowboy Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-30 00:37:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16275599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeraBAdler/pseuds/VeraBAdler
Summary: Are Dean's most precious possessions safe? Yeah, actually, they are. Also Sam missed a clue somewhere.Fictober prompt: “Who could do this?”Promptober prompt: Cowboy





	The Cowboy Crime

“Who could do this, Sam? I thought we could trust these people!”

The tirade has been going on for ten minutes. Sam had stopped listening after the first 30 seconds, but it's clear that his usual strategy of “let Dean rant until he runs out of steam and goes away” is not going to work this time. He sighs and mentally surrenders. _Time to engage_. He clears his throat. “Dean...”

“You can't violate someone's space like that! A man's room is his _sanctum_! What if–”

“Dean!”

“Huh?” His brother's eyes go wide with surprise at the interruption. _He'd forgotten I was even here_.

“I get it, you're pissed that someone went into your room while we were gone. Is anything missing?”

“No, nothing taken. But they fucked up one of my shelves. I had everything in alphabetical order and now they're all stuck in there randomly. Why would someone do that, Sammy?”

“They messed up your books?”

“Nah, my _movies_. The _cowboy shelf_. Nothin' else. We took these people in, man! We're trusting them! But if you and I can't leave for a two-day hunt without coming back to a B &E, maybe we need to reconsider that trust! Fuck it, I'm heading into town. Gonna put a lock on my door, something sturdy...” Dean's voice trails off and he turns, about to embark on his mission, when a figure in a buttoned-up trench coat appears, blocking his way.

“Hello, Dean.”

“He-hey, Cas,” he replies, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck in what Sam thinks of as “Mating Display #3”. Dean's fury has evaporated, replaced with the sheepish grin and softened tone of voice that Castiel's presence always seems to evoke. Sam grits his teeth. _These two assholes and their UST_ , he grouses to himself. _I'd almost rather keep listening to Dean bitch about the tragedy of how his DVDs got rearranged_.

“How was the hunt?” the angel inquires, gaze locked on to Dean's.

“Fine. Milk run. Found the spirit's anchor pretty quick and a salt 'n' burn polished it right off.” Dean's eyes search Cas's face like all of life's secrets might be read there. _Ease up on the eyesex there, bro_ , Sam thinks. _With a stare that intense, you're gonna burn a hole right through his head. God, I wish they would just fuck it out..._ “Everything okay here while we were gone?” Dean asks with obvious concern.

“Yes, it was uneventful. Mary has taken a group of the newcomers out on another road trip to acclimate them further to our world. Bobby and Jack have been spending most of their time sparring in the gym. There was little for me to do, so I watched some films while I awaited your return.”

“...Films?”

Sam hadn't been paying attention, tuning out of the latest episode of _Dean and Cas are talking, but neither is saying what he really wants to say because they're idiots and cowards_. But he sees Dean blink rapidly, his face gone slack as he realizes that there had been no dastardly crime, only his little angel friend helping himself to some pop culture while they were gone.

“Yes, I...” Cas trails off, leaning in towards Dean and dropping his tone. It's obvious that he's trying to keep this conversation between the two of them, but has no idea how to keep his voice from projecting, and Sam is _right here_ and is spared none of what he has to say. “I was watching your Western movies. You said you wanted me to act like a cowboy for you, Dean, but I was unsure of what that would entail, so I felt I should do some research on the vernacular and–”

Dean's face is now approximately the color of a cooked lobster. He grabs Cas by the arm and starts to pull him out towards the hall, babbling at top volume in an attempt to drown out his angel's words. “Oh- _kay_ , buddy, cool! Glad you weren't bored. Let's go talk about this in our room.” Dean bustles them both out the door. _I'll be damned_ , Sam thinks as they leave, _they got their shit together. Good for them_.

Unfortunately for Sam, though, Dean does not bustle them fast enough, because Cas is still talking. From the hallway, Sam hears, “I must apologize, Dean. I'm not wearing those chaps that you bought for me, as they won't fit over my thighs.” What really saps Sam's will to live, though, is the _moan_ that Dean makes in reply.

**Author's Note:**

> Rebloggable link for this fic on tumblr is [here](https://blessyourhondahurley.tumblr.com/post/178984965756/october-12-the-cowboy-crime-verabadler).


End file.
